


The World Keeps Spinning

by Bouzingo



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Episode 36: Missing, Hopeful Ending, M/M, post-episode stinger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouzingo/pseuds/Bouzingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos drives to Cecil's apartment, worried about repercussions for his latest broadcast. He finds that Cecil is well, if down with a case of the sniffles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Keeps Spinning

The drive to Cecil’s apartment has never been so long, not even the one time the road leading up to his building looped five or six times before going back to normal. Carlos’ knuckles are livid on the wheel, and he can’t even bring himself to wonder if the experiments he left running in his lab will finally do something just as he’s unable to note changes down.

He knocks on Cecil’s door, and after a few moments he pushes the door open. Cecil’s apartment is the same as it’s ever been, with the framed cross-stitch aphorisms (‘Beware, Be Warned, Be Wary’ with little bees embroidered around the lettering, ‘Home is where the bleeding, still beating heart is!’) and the numerous afghans and quilts. Cecil is curled up on the cushy sofa, barely visible under maybe five or six of these quilts.

“Cecil?” Carlos asks quietly. “Are you all right? I heard the broadcast, and I…”

He’s interrupted by a tremendous sneeze, and Cecil pokes his head out. He looks like he has a cold, but he’s not injured or frightened. Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.

“Did you know that it gets cold at the end of November when there hasn’t been sun for a couple of days?” Cecil says with a self-deprecating smile. “And it’s colder the higher you go.”

Carlos stares, and then laughs. He laughs because this is _his_ Cecil, a Cecil who he hasn’t seen for awhile. He sits down beside Cecil, takes the neon crocheted afghan and pulls it over the both of them.

“I was scared for you,” he says, still grinning. “You were wonderful.”

“Oh stop,” Cecil says with an extremely nasal sniffle, though he does seem rather pleased with himself. “I was, wasn’t I?”

“Yes you were, and now you’re congested,” Carlos says. “Can I get you some cocoa?”

“Why are you so good?” Cecil asks with that goofy twitterpated expression Carlos has come to adore.

Later, sitting on the couch and sipping their cocoa, Cecil lays his head on Carlos’ shoulder.

“I don’t think it will be easy after tonight,” he says.

“Was it ever easy?”

“No,” Cecil says with a quiet smile. “No, nothing has ever been easy.”

That is more reassuring than anything else Cecil could have said. Carlos thinks back on his lab, thinks about the experiments he’s been running to try and figure out just what’s going on with the sun.

And then he decides that there’s no place he’d rather be than with his wonderfully subversive radio host.


End file.
